Reluctance Is Futile

I floated up onto another floor the other day, and as I sat in the staff room waiting for reports, I noticed a sign up on the wall in fancy script that said, "Reluctance is futile!"

And I thought, "How true."

And then I realized I'd read the fancy script wrong and it actually said, "Resistance is futile," which is a more mainstream thought.

I like the way I originally read it, though. Sometimes I drag myself out of bed, wanting very much to not get up. I drag myself to work, wanting very much to stay at home; and I drag myself around all day. Then I come home and drag myself off the couch (if I've let myself sit down) and into the shower. I sort of enjoy myself a little for the next hour or two, but it's kind of poisoned by knowing I need to go to bed soon. Usually later than I should, I finally succeed in dragging myself off to bed, dreading the next morning.

This is very stupid.

Reluctance is futile. I have to do all that stuff, and dreading things is pointless (and very un-fun) and takes all the fun out of the rest of the day as well.

Today I managed to cut down a lot on my "reluctance," and it was a very good day.

Thank goodness for illegible fonts.